


The Lines

by e1even



Category: Naruto
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alcohol, Anal Sex, Cheating, Consent Issues, M/M, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 22:00:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4641753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e1even/pseuds/e1even
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iruka and Mizuki celebrate after finding out Iruka has been appointed to a teaching position.</p><p>((Archive warning explicitly is referring to the fact someone can’t actually consent when under the influence of substances, plus the use of coercion.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lines

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic to extrapolate on some of the feelings implied in Warm Water, and can be read as a prequel, taking place before the series. I partially wanted to write this to explore the idea and the feelings, but also to shed some light on what an unhealthy relationship can be like, for that, I'm including a large amount of information in the end note. Trigger warning for a depiction of an abusive relationship (major warning, it's the focus of this work), dubious consent (one party is drunk, one is not, as well as some other parts) and cheating (Mizuki's having sexual relationships with Iruka, despite his relationship with Tsubaki, introduced in a filler arc.)  
> As well, this could be read as a prequel to Warm Water.

The night’s no longer young, they went out earlier in the evening but now, there’s a few crickets chirping out, the streets hardly lit. The long shadows cast down the road in the vibrancy of the summer colours was a sight to behold, even down this dirt path instead of the forest, but, he couldn’t see anything but else.

Iruka couldn’t help it, it was magnetic, his eyes to Mizuki in the moonlight, the warmer light of lanterns.

They were supposed to be celebrating the fact Iruka got the teaching job he’d wanted, they’d wanted, but Mizuki hardly celebrated with him, hardly had a drink all night. It was just the two of them, of course. That's the way Mizuki liked it, said it was more personal, and Iruka was inclined to agree.

Especially because they had to be careful, about this, each other.

"Hey, Iruka, congratulations again on the position.”

Mizuki said, and Iruka could hear the grin in the words, lighting up the space near them.

Iruka felt like the lines where their relationship fell were shaky. Maybe it was undefined. Maybe something went wrong somewhere in the transition between friends and lovers. That transition felt a lot like how they first fell into bed together.

Dizzying, new, unresolved yet complete. They came together like the reeds and the high tide, eventually. Iruka’s a little ashamed to admit how long he’s liked Mizuki, childish crush to teenage affection to now, whatever this was, right now.

“Thanks. Y’know, I’m not sure why they haven’t gotten back to you yet.”

Iruka says back, speech slurring, and he’s just so close to Mizuki like this, with his arm over Mizuki’s shoulder, Mizuki’s arm around his waist, helping him walk.

This whole situation makes him blush, a little, and he hopes it’s hidden by the flush from the alcohol.

“Neither do I.”

Mizuki growls, and they’re both falling quiet, and Iruka’s trying to memorize the way Mizuki’s hand feels, gripping his side, the angles of his face and the way his hair fell, was arranged under that bandana.

He could look at Mizuki, feel Mizuki for hours. Iruka could feel like, maybe is, probably is in over his head.

He's head over heels, forced to quiet that voice in the back of his head telling him he's in love.

In love with the way Mizuki would laugh, with his green eyes (not the bright kind like grass, but the faded stripes like the way a forest looks in the distance, he thinks he could find glades in them, if he looked), and maybe with how he'd casually sling his arm around his waist. Like the way he was holding him right now.

Even Mizuki's pretty strong jealous streak seemed cute, somehow. He's drunk, and it shows in the way Iruka feels a little warmer than makes sense, loves the swaying motion, somehow the dizzy feeling nothing short of fantastic.

"Hey. Hey, Mizuki."

Iruka drawls out, words stumbling like his steps. Mizuki hums affirmatively, looks down at Iruka, slouched up against his shoulder.

"Where are we leading, uh, going?"

He says, ignores how his breath sneaks in oddly around the words, he sounded fine, maybe, probably.

He felt great, and that's what mattered, he made it, they would make it both soon.

"Your apartment."

Mizuki says, crystal clear voice sounding dark and seductive. The sound itself seemed to linger in Iruka's ears and drift around him, like smoke, leaving him dazed.

"M-My apartment?"

He replied quizzically, only managing to make himself sound ridiculous.

How many drinks did he have, anyways? It took awhile for him to become this kind of inarticulate, or was it just relative to Mizuki? Voice thick and sweet, dripping from his mouth.

"Complaining?"

And Mizuki's arm is around his waist, neither of them were as in shape as they could be, but even like this, his arm was strong and sturdy, partially holding him up.

"No, nah. Thinking, will you celebrate with me?"

Iruka's leaning into Mizuki, maybe a little too much, face turned into his neck, words said by his collarbones. 

Mizuki smelled like some kind of wood, some kind of spice, all some kind of aftershave and Iruka finds it better than the fresh air out here, the distinctive alcoholic smells of the bar.

He probably reeked of all the drinks he had, himself, wonders if Mizuki cared, why he didn't drink.

"I'm coming home with you, if that's what you're asking."

Mizuki replied, voice confident, tone somehow _dirty_ in a way that would've made him concerned if he wasn't already in too deep.

He noticed how Mizuki would treat him so gently, kindly, like a gentleman among those who knew about them, Iruka wished those times were all the time when his thoughts ran away from him.

Some realization kicked him in the gut at the same time he felt a little weak in the knees, needed to cling to Mizuki to stay up, drink some water, sit down. Iruka knows that nothing would probably be as good as Mizuki fucking him out of his mind, but scrambled to put on the breaks, it wasn't right, this wasn't him.

"Wait, Mizu, I'm drunk."

Iruka hardly had the presence of mind to say, letting some one-time nickname slide out.

Mizuki was different with him when they were alone, on the way back to one of their places, so much more demanding, always trying to set limits and everything and Iruka's mildly certain it's because he didn't want to get caught.

"Don't worry baby, I don't mind."

He was surprised to hear the pet name, practically melting from those words, the blatant lust backing them up, wanted to give in, though it wasn't right, it wouldn't feel right.

Mizuki saying that kind of thing him would've been the perfect trump card if Iruka didn't wonder if he said the same thing to Tsubaki.

Iruka's drunk off his ass and Mizuki is stone sober and Iruka's so sure he wouldn't do anything particularly bad but knows there's such an imbalance between them that if Mizuki wanted to stab him in between his shoulder blades, he'd be powerless to stop him. Doesn't want to risk anything, ever, again.

Mizuki wouldn't do something he didn't want, probably, but, it could be a bad idea.

"Hey, I, we, may-"

Iruka's trying to say, get a word in between his thoughts, yet Mizuki's the one who cuts him off.

"I said, it's fine."

Mizuki's breathing out, speaking so much more slowly, maybe quietly than Iruka bothered to, makes him feel self conscious, was he yelling?

"I don't want to."

He's careful to speak softly this time, feels his own voice waver. Turning Mizuki down isn't something he wants to do, even if they weren't a relationship, the relationship Iruka pined for from him, but, he's not ready for something, not right now.

Maybe wants to sleep by Mizuki, be near him, doesn't want to be alone tonight but doesn't want company like _that_ , it's too much. There's too big of a difference between them

"Don't you trust me, Iruka?"

Mizuki replies, he's looking forwards, and Iruka can't help but stiffen up. He didn't, he couldn't possibly have meant that he just-

"Yes, of course, I, everything."

Iruka blurts out and Mizuki stops in his tracks, pecks Iruka on the lips, and there's no more discussion, and now they're walking in, walking up.

He feels dizzy, maybe he really should sit down, his eyes are closed and Mizuki's practically carrying him up to his bachelor pad, guiding his way, his heavy and jerky footsteps.

He felt more like some newborn deer than he did a person right now, guiding Mizuki's hand inside his pocket, near his keys, feels him grab them, unlock his door.

Iruka's in, struggling to take off his shoes, unwrap his ankles, and Mizuki sheds his own easily, kisses Iruka again, deeper, and he's trapped in the tiny, tiny entranceway of his tiny bachelor pad between Mizuki's pale arms and his eyes are closed.

He thinks maybe he feels more like this, maybe his body is a little more sensitive because the way Mizuki's tongue is in his mouth, how the fabric of his vest chafes his forearms, the weight of his body pressing against Iruka's is all maddening, makes his stomach feel tight and everything feel warmer than it should be, could possibly be.

"You need some water?"

Mizuki's asking now, face somehow away from Iruka's and he can hardly tell when that happened, mouth still hanging open, and all he can do is agree, nod, slump against the wall when Mizuki leaves him, walks in like the apartment was his own.

"Thank you."

Iruka says, surprised how coherent that sounded, and that's when his psyche fell apart, they _can't_ do this.

Yet, it was so courteous of him to offer, get him something to drink, walk him home. He didn't want to be selfish, not when Mizuki did that much, yet...

Mizuki, girlfriend. Iruka, drunk. They _couldn't_ , this was imbalanced. He's just a sad drunk. He couldn't cry right now, though, Mizuki made it very clear he didn't want to talk about it, wouldn't allow Iruka to worry about it. Iruka shouldn't even consider her, focus on them, him.

He was so, so bad for wanting this still, from Mizuki, taking him away from his real partner all these nights, the affection, selfish, he can't turn Mizuki away, wants him so close, when even tonight's his fault, agreed to go with him for drinks, knew it would last into the night.

Come to this conclusion, every time.

Mizuki's back in the main part, water from the tap in some novelty glass Iruka had lying around. Iruka’s still trying to stand, leaning against an armchair, hearing it scrape against the ground, sliding under his weight.

This place was tiny, hardly an apartment, a room, and a bathroom, and the first thing he wants to do is get a better place with his consistent pay. Maybe pay off his bar tab. Maybe make things okay with Tsubaki.

He’s holding the glass, now, takes a sip, lets it wash down his throat, maybe wash away apprehension. Iruka’s drained the glass, soon, Mizuki by him.

Wonders if Mizuki's fast or he's just too slow.

And Mizuki's taking the glass from his hand, pulling him in for a kiss, he hears the glass being set down on the side table but can only feel the press of Mizuki's lips, the demanding way he licked into his mouth. Iruka's head was spinning and he couldn't possibly try to figure out how much of it was from the alcohol and how much was just from Mizuki touching him, arms around his waist, Mizuki kissing him.

It was confusing, warm, intoxicating. Iruka knew they were moving, stumbled around, guided by Mizuki until he felt them seperate, felt the space between them just as much as he felt the places they connected.

Iruka's breathing heavily, looking at Mizuki, looking back at him like he was something to be desired, owned.

"Baby, probably should lie down."

Mizuki says in a low voice, and Iruka maybe hates how good Mizuki smells, wanted to drown in him, that voice.

"You're gonna lay me down?"

He mumbled back, clearly losing his grip on things, this, and Mizuki's arms around his waist loosen up, and Mizuki's now chuckling, lightly.

The sound is as soft as the starlight Iruka remembers from out on the way here, nearly drowned out by the streetlights. Mizuki's leaning forwards, and Iruka's trusting him to hold his weight, moves to sit down on his futon before pulling Mizuki down with him.

Iruka's fingers are slipping off his shirt. and Mizuki's standing up, still, raising an eyebrow at him as he pulled off his shirt, vest, nearly everything quickly.

Iruka's trying to do similarly, but by the time he manages to wrestle off his shirt, he's catching Mizuki's eyes as he kicks away his pants, straightens out his arms, cracks his knuckles.

Iruka watched his hair settle as the bandana came off, the pale skin, and all the light was coming in from street lamps between the slats of the window blind, tiny window, tiny apartment, yet the space seemed full with the two of them.

Mizuki's eyes were burning with something Iruka was maybe half sure was desire, eyes half shut and body feeling hazy.

Something about the way Mizuki stretched seemed feline and on that vision alone Iruka was ready to announce himself a cat person. He had a type, and he's pretty sure it was Mizuki, bits of Mizuki in other people.

Graceful, powerful, he wasn't sure if he was looking at some kind of beast ready to eat him whole.

Not just anyone was chosen to be an instructor. He was a poor example, not particularly sure of himself, baffled as to how Mizuki was the one left hanging.

The way the Sandaime looked over at Mizuki was always somehow soured, or apprehensive, somehow, and Iruka really had given up thinking about it. Given up thinking about how someone so sure of himself could be trumped by someone like him.

He always gave up thinking when Mizuki's eyes turned to him.

Mizuki crouching down, was crawling over to him, now, and the whole feeling like a deer came back, that look alone was going to swallow him. It really was _only_ a look, Iruka could probably beat him at arm wrestling, has before, he’s not weak, but maybe not like this. If his reaction time was as blurry as it felt, Mizuki's clarity was enough.

"Need some help?"

Mizuki's saying, and it hardly registers to Iruka, and it feels like the Chuunin exams again, when by the second round of the last test they were fighting.

"Mizuki, Mizuki, please."

 _Don't do this._ Don't. Do it, actually. Iruka couldn't decide, was so torn, he wants Mizuki, wants him so bad, but not like this.

Not when his brain's all fuzzy and he's helping Mizuki cheat. Tsubaki, his fault, Iruka can't. Can't do this. Can't say no. Not to Mizuki, never, ever to Mizuki.

"Gotcha, I'm here. Right here for you."

Mizuki had snuck up behind him, back then, in a smokescreen, spoke right into his ear and Iruka's sure he blushed hard enough for the spectators to see. Bright enough.

Mizuki's pulling at his pants and Iruka just can't resist, helping him, even when Mizuki just pulls off his briefs too.

"Mizuki."

Iruka says, blearily, like it's the only word he knows, looking at him, wiry, solid shoulders, hair mussed and Mizuki's moving forwards leaning back down to kiss him so much more gently than every other time.

He remembers that fight, knows he trapped Mizuki with the earth of the arena soon, low level jutsu that took him an eternity to learn, and Mizuki expected that, didn't expect the wire tied on his ankle.

Mizuki's fingers are in his hair, pulling out the hair tie and running his fingers through it, stroking it, playing with it. His hand was moving lazily, along with body, along with Iruka's body.

The way they moved together was perfect, in Iruka's eyes. Combat, reconnaissance, whatever the hell this was.

He gasps when Mizuki’s pushing him down onto the futon, lets himself fall back, ignores whatever’s in his head, whatever ache in his bones, sighs when he feels Mizuki’s hand on him, stroking gently, lets his eyes flutter shut.

The wire set something off, some trap, several traps, caught Mizuki but he'd already sunk to the ground from exhaustion. Iruka remembers finding out he passed, though, hardly, regrets not being able to watch Mizuki in the next round, even if he passed the overall exam too.

Iruka's fingers are digging into Mizuki's shoulders, soon, as much as he's able to. The fact Mizuki's now thumbing at the slit, playing with the head of his cock, combined with the fact Iruka's bones felt halfway melted and he felt so relaxed were all somehow working together into something _incredible._

He's sighing, shakily, only hears it because Mizuki's talking, again, and the sound of his voice always, _always_ got to Iruka.

"You want me to fuck you, right?"

Mizuki’s trying to sound sweet, yet the words are dark and bitten off, and all Iruka's coherent enough to do is exhale out some high, needy, sound, and curl into himself, try to brace himself against the feeling. Mizuki's hand is still moving slow, a little too slow and it's building too fast, and his other hand slides up to hold on to his side, and Iruka's falling apart.

"Gonna take that as a yes."

Iruka would never forget the first time Mizuki came onto him, though it was the longest time after he tried to confess to Mizuki. Got turned down, but, his feelings barely went away, never really did.

Mizuki was drunk and he was drunk and even though he feared this might just be a fling still, Mizuki experimenting, Iruka went along with it, couldn't say no.

Not even when he found out about Tsubaki, three days later.

And Mizuki's kissing him and Iruka wishes they could stay like this with no more fights no more Mizuki, angry, no Tsubaki, just this. Mizuki was so nice like this. So nice to let him have this, let him in his arms all drunk and falling apart.

He wasn’t so foolish as to believe he could ever have that, but, for some reason he was holding on, just in case.

Mizuki’s now stroking gently, so lightly and Iruka can practically feel it in his teeth, he’d bet he’s throbbing and there’s no more sense of time, anymore, everything’s taking hours and seconds and days and infinities and no time at all.

Suddenly, the too much is none at all as he hears rustling, Mizuki taking something out of his pocket, pulling down his pants, crinkling, and there’s vertigo, Mizuki coaxing him onto his side and his head is spinning but he wants them to move on, Mizuki to touch him.

He hears the sound of lube being applied, feels two fingers pushing some of the cold gel in and it’s a shock but in a maybe good maybe absolutely terrible way but it makes him squirm and pant and _want_ so much more than just this.

There’s little grace after that point, maybe none, Mizuki’s fast to thrust in and Iruka’s hissing from the pain, mind still reeling from the situation and the feeling of Mizuki’s pants rubbing against his calf and the futon beneath them both and the air on his skin and the feeling of Mizuki inside him.

This was a mistake, this was a terrible beautiful and maybe necessary mistake.

Mizuki’s pulling out, and pushing back in, after a brief pause, and Iruka’s managed to yank himself up onto his hands and knees, eyes closed, and he can feel his hair sticking to the back of his sweaty neck as clearly as he can feel Mizuki _moving_ , feel himself stretching to accommodate him and it’s painful but almost overwhelmed by the little sparks of pleasure he can feel race behind his eyelids.

Iruka wouldn’t admit to Mizuki that he was fingering himself before they met up this afternoon, thought about doing this, tonight with Mizuki, didn’t actually mean to do it.

He knew they needed to cut this off and that is the thought that stuck in his mind as Mizuki was moving slowly, slick hand running up Iruka’s thigh and the underside of his cock, making him flinch at the sudden contact, the feeling of Mizuki smearing his own precum against him, using it alongside the leftover lube on his hand to smoothen out the motions.

Mizuki's leaning down to kiss him and Iruka hardly has any idea what to do, what he's doing, the angle's all wrong and a little saliva is sliding out as Mizuki possessively claims his mouth, still moving in an otherwise even rhythm, deep and slow.

It's gross, but it's also good, can't keep his eyes open, can't do much else but just hold on, go along with whatever he's doing.

“You’re so sloppy, baby.”

Mizuki's saying now, the words against his darker skin, and they barely register, his mind's all hazy.

Iruka's trying to stay in the moment, too, not drift off, or think too hard, think at all.

Mizuki feels really hot, deep inside him, and the friction is intense, and Iruka thinks he’s getting goosebumps and the alcohol is making everything a little bit better, him a little more relaxed. He’d be terrified if this was anyone else, if Mizuki left him, and nothing has ever mattered to him more than hanging onto this moment where he’s falling to pieces, wanting and needing more.

Iruka feels needy, can smell the alcohol on his own breath, was a little too conscious of his surroundings even though he’s been here hundreds of times, at least seven times with Mizuki like this, on his knees while Mizuki’s deep inside, fucking into him and they’re both moaning and he’s crying out, hands in the sheets or blankets or scrambling at the wall or the floor.

It was terrifying how fast the tense feeling was building, between them, Iruka felt hot and everything felt a little blurred and messed up around the edges.

The lines were always blurry when they came in between Mizuki and himself.He needed this.

“Eugh, you’re mine, all mine.”

Mizuki muttered into his ear, voice gravelly, and it sends chills down Iruka’s spine. Mizuki never really shut up. They fell together. Or, Mizuki fell into him, his life. This wasn't the first time but Iruka wouldn't believe any of this ever happened to him if there weren't the moments after and in between.

The bruises that bloomed across his skin in the morning.

Iruka sometimes felt like he was dreaming, it's not like he wasn't dreaming about this before. Izumo and Kotetsu used to mock him about it, he didn't blame them, he was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush for years.

“Yeah, yours, I’m yours, just yours, Mizuki, yours.”

Iruka replies, less than half as coherent as Mizuki, whimpering it out like a litany, prayer on his lips, knows Mizuki likes it, likes the idea, feels Mizuki growl in response, thrust particularly hard, and Iruka’s _sobbing_ , it’s good, it’s really good.

He’s getting washed away in the heat of the situation, pushing his hips back, trying to get Mizuki to fuck him harder, deeper.

Iruka's nearly whimpering, it's rough, Mizuki wasn't usually this rough and suddenly he's feeling pain, wet, warmth, Mizuki probably bit where his shoulder met his neck, lapped at the leftover wound.

There's no way he broke skin, but it stings as bad as needles tearing into him.

Iruka whines, then, tries to bite his lip to keep the sobs in before they, he, gets out of control, tries to control the way he's clenching down and tensing up around Mizuki inside him. He could barely stay conscious of his body underneath the onslaught of sensations.

He's fisting his hands in the light blanket, probably couldn't pry his hands open if he tried, couldn't stop his hips from pushing backwards at Mizuki's hot breath by his ear.

"It's okay to talk, baby, just us here, let it out."

And the next thrust is harsh, the rough pace becoming a little less rough and more brutal, Mizuki's hands were gripping his hips almost too hard, but it felt perfect.

Iruka tries not to cry out desperately, ends up failing when Mizuki's sliding by his prostate, re-angles his thrusts so he's there almost every thrust.

The thickness of Mizuki in him, the feeling of being fucked open, being _fucked_ , hard, the sparks running behind his eyes and the thin moans leaking out because he's not fully sure how he's going to hold on, all too much.

"Nothing to tell me?

If he wasn't so drunk, so close, he'd know that Mizuki wanted him to talk, topple him over the edge.

“I love you, Mizuki, I, I think just, so much.”

Iruka’s rambling now, can’t control the flow of his words, the way his heartbeat’s hammering against his chest, the way he feels, just hopes Mizuki feels the same, feels the same as he’s felt for so many years.

“Love you too, Iruka. Good thing.”

Mizuki says into his ears, and Iruka hears the words, feels them as though they were Mizuki’s hand, sends shivers down his spine, and all he can do is rock his hips backward, feel the warmth, the weight, of Mizuki’s body on top of him.

“Don’t think anyone else _ever_ could.”

The room’s warm, and words chill him to the bone, possibly because he’s right. Probably. This was everything.

This was all he'd ever have.

"You're lucky, baby. So lucky I love you."

And Mizuki's still being so rough with him. Rough voice, pace, hands on him. Iruka can hardly think straight, think at all, not with the way Mizuki's fucking him, so hard, deep.

He thinks he’s talking, saying something but his words are probably incoherent like his thoughts because all he can feel is still the slight sting and Mizuki’s hand and Mizuki inside him and the depth, how thick Mizuki felt inside him, and the moment was crescendoing more than he was comfortable with.

Then Mizuki ends up sliding against something and he shuts his eyes hard, trying to hold on, trying to gather enough of his thoughts to say something because Mizuki always wanted to hear _something_ and he wanted them to both get off.

Wanted to get Mizuki to make him forget his reservations like Mizuki always did, wanted to just be with Mizuki in this moment too.

"Mizu, I, hey, please? I need more, just a little more, getting close."

Iruka pants out, jolting a little as Mizuki manages to brush by that spot again, make Iruka’s thoughts all blur together and whimper and push back because that was so good, this all was so, so good.

"What do you need? Tell me."

Mizuki says, and he sounds so winded, like he’s running for his life, voice so lovely and dark and Iruka wanted to drown in it.

"I, I don't _know_ , I, _Mizuki._ "

Iruka pleads, and Mizuki’s aim is getting better, and he’s so close. Iruka felt himself clench erratically, body tensing, relaxing and shifting back trying to match Mizuki’s rhythm, and he’s losing his grip and he’s losing his grip on the thin coverings of his damn futon.

"You don't?"

Mizuki’s teasing him, he has to be teasing him but Iruka can’t care, he can’t, not now.

"I'm gonna come soon, please, make me, fuck me!"

He’s babbling out, whimpering every so often when Mizuki’s thrusting in particularly good and he’s losing his rhythm too but Iruka’s only been half here from the beginning and he can feel his reality slipping.

"Demanding. You're mine, Iruka."

Mizuki chastises him, takes his hand away from Iruka’s length to support his weight, plant on the futon, thrust harder, and it’s too much, it’s good, it’s rough and it’s unsteady.

"Yours, all yours."

Iruka’s sobbing, now, maybe tears in the corners of his eyes. He’s just agreeing, hardly paying attention to the words,

"No one else can touch you, yeah? Just me."

The rumble of Mizuki’s voice finally, _finally_ sends Iruka over the edge, because Mizuki was right, things are better when you’re talking but if he was a little more coherent he’d wonder about Mizuki’s hypocrisy, this relationship being a double edged sword, maybe a single edged knife, stuck in his body.

"Mizuki, Mizuki, I, Mizuki!”

He's crying, sobbing out in broken sounds as he shuts his eyes, tries to hold on through the tremors wracking his body, and he’s too _drunk_ , too disoriented, and he’s hardly hanging on at this point.

Everything’s too hazy from that point for Iruka to register, for Iruka to think. Mizuki’s moving, maybe leaving, maybe coming back, and he hears the sound of water running, and something being thrown out, and there’s a cricket or a lot of crickets outside, ringing out like the ringing in his ears.

He’s not drunk so he could think, be alone with his thoughts. Iruka curls up a little bit on top of his blanket, hopes these kinds of pathetic memories drift away with the morning, and he’s not alone for all that much longer.

Mizuki returns, and his presence quiets the storm of Iruka’s thoughts, and they’re lying together, and it’s all Iruka wants.

He was shaky, exhausted and sure he was going to feel _everything_ they just did tomorrow. The weight of Mizuki's arm over him, keeping him trapped against Mizuki's chest. Just a little taller than him, stronger than him, _more_ than him.

The weight of his conscience.

All of the realizations flooded into him slowly like the sensation back into his body, Mizuki had a girlfriend.

The satisfied ache in his bones couldn't erase the twisted knot in his gut. He was even friends with her, Tsubaki, she was kind, she appreciated how he'd look out for Mizuki. She didn't know how he'd look _at_ Mizuki, all the time, didn't notice.

She didn't know about this and it made Iruka sick to his stomach.

Mizuki said he'll sort it out. Said he'll resolve this with such finality Iruka really wonders if he needs to bring it up again, if he even wants to.

The night is quieter than the buzz in his thoughts, his head, the disoriented pounding in his chest, the hope that they’d be okay.

That maybe this time, from this time on, they’d be different.

This whole thing would be okay, he's hoping, and drifting off rather fast, warmth still burning at his cheeks, body limber and pressed to Mizuki's comparably cool body. The world melted away, at the edges, as his breathing evened out, sunk into some kind of sound sleep.

Iruka wished he could just lie here with him, like this, that time could stop or slow down and let them be. Let them ignore the nagging at the edge of his mind.

It's soon 6am in the morning, and Mizuki's gone.

Iruka vomits, hands braced over his toilet, legs feeling weak, migraine only growing worse as the sun begins to peak over the horizon, cascade into his bathroom.

He slept fantastic last night, safe, snuggled into the strong arms of his lover, but he still felt some twist in his gut that it was wrong, something was wrong, had dreams that did nothing to quiet the nervous fluttering in his chest telling him to get out of this _thing_ that he’s stuck in.

The feelings only resonate with the thoughts in his head and he can't deny it was a mistake, everything was a mistake, it's his fault too, for never speaking up.

Letting Mizuki get a girlfriend before Mizuki decided to come onto him.

Last time he brought it up, tried to bring it up, Mizuki was angry, a few glasses thrown alongside words. Mizuki apologized, really said he’d talk it out, he just needed time. Iruka believed him, or wanted to, that he’ll work it all out.

He’d believe him more if it stopped happening, every time they met.

If Mizuki didn’t tell him that he had to be responsible, keep up this relationship, though there’s Tsubaki, there’s so much else, since he started it. That he loved Iruka, that’s why he wanted to wait it out, keep waiting, and Iruka’d wait with him if he really loved him too, wait for him to fix the flaws and gaps.

He'd think some of those words had crossed a line if he could remember where any of the lines were.

Iruka didn’t have many people left to tell, in his tiny world filled up by him and Mizuki alone, this relationship was everything, he didn’t object, but Mizuki never asked, wanting to be in charge, leading them both, something.

It was still wrong. It was still so wrong, Mizuki was straightforward, Mizuki needs to tell her, if he’s not allowed to himself.

Iruka was never one for rules, but didn’t want to overstep Mizuki's own.

Lose him for his own foolishness.

Iruka feels sick, writes a letter to Tsubaki he'll be too cowardly to deliver, forced to burn so Mizuki can't find it, wonders if Mizuki would be okay with letting him dig up some old connections, friends. He feels like he hasn't seen any of them in an eternity, there's isolation and Mizuki's his anchor, but he needs to talk to someone about the shame ripping him open from the inside out.

 _He’_ s probably with Tsubaki, now, and Iruka's just half heartbroken, here alone on the floor.

Iruka shivers at the thoughts of Mizuki, Mizuki's _real_ relationship, how he can't just let go, thinks through and shuts down so many more ideas.

He needed to talk to someone, anyone, because there's not a single chance he and Mizuki were going to.

 

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I'd like to use this endnote to explain some things about abusive relationships. The dynamic portrayed in the fic is a very unhealthy one, and frankly, I romanticized the shit out of it to try and show you all something important.
> 
> To quote something from BoJack Horseman, "Sometimes when you look at someone through rose-coloured glasses, all the red flags just look like flags." It's sometimes hard to tell when you're in an unhealthy relationship or that your partner is abusive, especially with emotional abuse since it's beyond violence, a more obvious sign. I put a lot of obvious issues in this particular fic, but even a couple small things could be a bad sign, a thing in particular is if you notice you feel bad after when you're around them, upset, frustrated, especially if it's something that wouldn't be resolvable by a good talk. One big red flag is if you're beginning to wonder if you're in an abusive relationship. Though overall, I'd like to remind everyone, you don't need a reason to leave a relationship, it's something that requires mutual feelings, so, if you're not feeling it, you're not wrong or a bad person to break up with them. You also don't need to give someone who hurt you another chance, it's not selfish to put yourself first sometimes.
> 
> Though I could explain a lot more intricacies of unhealthy relationships right here, I’d like to prompt you to kinda look at the following resources since they explain it so much better than me.  
> http://onlinecounsellingcollege.tumblr.com/post/22001677368/how-to-identify-if-you-are-in-an-abusive  
> http://mentalillnessmouse.tumblr.com/post/42059984723/how-do-i-know-if-im-in-an-abusive-relationship  
> http://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2014/10/13/21-warning-signs-of-an-emotionally-abusive-relationship/
> 
> I'd also like to thank you for reading this endnote, as, I think it's very, very important to the understanding of the fic, and I also had hoped to use this as a small PSA, seeing as I know I have a fair audience. Please stay safe in your relationships with other people, sometimes it's hard to tell when things are bad until you're in too deep.


End file.
